


a special day

by aislingthebard



Category: Divinity: Original Sin 2
Genre: F/M, Ifan Ben-Mezd - Freeform, Lohse - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-23
Updated: 2017-10-23
Packaged: 2019-01-21 19:41:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12464520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aislingthebard/pseuds/aislingthebard
Summary: random ficlets about Ifan and Lohse





	1. a special day

“Ifan? Haven’t you forgotten something?” Lohse tipped her index finger against his chest. They’d been separated from Fane and the Prince, squeezing themselves into a small corner of the tavern. It granted them the illusion of privacy and they had earned a bit of rest and first and foremost a bath and some warm food. 

He raised his head. “Me? No?”

“You’re sure about that?” She pouted. Full bottom lip quivering. After knowing each other for such a long time, mocking him seemed a lot easier, because she knew when to stop and when to push. Sharing a bond of intimacy also helped and after months of awkward courtship and missed opportunities, they’d finally confessed a feeling. Or two. 

Lohse leaned back against the wooden wall and sipped at her wine, while Ifan’s cheeks flushed. “No.” The heat crawled along his neck. “Have I offended you somehow. Lohse?”

“It’s Kiss-a-bard-day.” Trying to stop herself from laughing was a sign of strong will and her training. Perhaps somewhere someone celebrated a feast like that. One could never know. 

“Kiss a bard day?” Dark brows raised, Ifan appeared more than sceptical about such a holiday.

“Yes! And well, nobody has kissed me today.” Lohse moved closer and pointed to her mouth. “What a waste of a perfectly pair of bardic lips.”

Ifan shook his head, his expression a fake outrage. “Unbelievable. A travesty.”

“See! I’m suffering here. A certain someone should end the hurst and celebrate with me!”

With a chuckle in his throat, he leaned in to kiss her. His beard scratched her chin and he tasted of strong ale. Lohse climbed on his lap, ignoring the notion that maybe she was too old for such public signs of affection. Within the darkness of the tavern no one paid them more than a passing glance, though. She grabbed his thick hair and enjoyed the sensation of his warm skin. Ifan had shed his leather armor for a simple shirt so that his throat lay bare and inviting in front of her and she kissed his jaw and neck and shoved her hands beneath the loose fitting cotton. His muscles tensed from the coldness of her fingers and he put a hand between the two of them.

“That’s more than kissing.”

Lohse moved her hips, pressing herself against him, and Ifan moaned. The sound made her smile. “Maybe it’s also fuck a bard day, dear one?”


	2. a night of peace

A night of peace.

Lohse had chuckled at the mere thought of their ship providing them with private quarters for such a special occasion. Four poster bed, a myriad of candles, and lots of velvet and gold. So tacky but, a wonderful place for some hours of rest. They’d defeated a god and lost their own divinity, fought themselves and the monsters of the void. She’d felt weary to the bones, the mocking voice of her shadow self ringing in her eyes, mixed with the sounds of broken stones and desperate cries. They’d earned their rest. 

Her smile had vanished, as soon as she saw the look on Ifan’s face. Something feral stirred within him. A growl on his lips and his pupils dark. They’d know where this would lead. An invitation to the lower deck of the ship and finally a bit of privacy, if only for a night.

Lohse followed the lines of his face and he stood close enough to smell the wolf on his skin. A hardened killer so very soft beneath her gaze and with love in his eyes. She felt the heat of his body.

Shadows flickered on his skin.

“Ifan.” She kissed him. Tongue and teeth on her lips, as she fumbled with his tunic and shirt, his trousers. Her fingers seemed clumsy and heavy and her heart beat too fast. Ifan helped and removed her own robes with deft hands. His beard scratched Lohse’s skin, red spots marking her paleness, and she moaned.

Ifan’s closeness seemed to rob her of every sane thought. How ironic, but with him, the demon was quiet. 

With him she had hope.

“I crave you.” Another growl.

His hardness pressed against her, as he lifted her up, and carried her to their bed. 

Ifan reached out for her, thumb brushing her lips, her chin. “Every step of the way I’ve wanted you. Since the moment we met. I’ve tried to conceal it, … but I can hardly breathe around you.”

“I’ve dreamt of this moment so often. You can’t even imagine… my thoughts are always, always consumed by you: your smile, your spirit, your soul.” Lohse put her arms around his neck and positioned herself above his lap. His tongue trailed along her collarbones, found her breasts and sucked sensitive skin.

Her voice already sounded hoarse and her lips were swollen. “One day, you have to tell me of your dreams. I need to hear about you lying awake, aching for me.” She bit his bottom lip. “And I will tell you about my nights. When the mere thought of you kept me from losing hope. How I had to touch myself. How I screamed your name into my pillows.” 

Lohse’s hand closed around his cock. “How I craved you.”

Ifan sucked in breath. “Lohse.”

She moved her hips then, carefully guiding him inside her. The feel of Ifan’s heated flesh sent shivers down her spine and darkness bloomed beneath her eyelids. They found a rhythm and her thighs were pressed against his. Ifan’s head rested on her chest, moaning ever so slightly. With their bodies joined, Lohse lost the track of time and place. Nothing made sense but him. His hands around her waist, his growls, his lips on her skin.

She loved him.


End file.
